Chapter 870: Gleaming Stars and Rotten (Fifteen) (Patreon)

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In the dimly lit corridors of Stark Tower, Peter had returned once again. He dialed Coulson's number, but there was no answer. He then tried Steve, and on the other end, he could hear Steve's voice filled with sorrow and exhaustion.

"Peter, I know you might find it hard to believe. Stark didn't want to tell you, fearing it would hurt you. But I've just seen a corpse," Steve began, his voice quivering. "Maybe you don't know, but Nick, though he had a long life, relied on a special Medicine. It's different from my super-soldier serum; it couldn't give him superhuman strength or healing abilities. Peter, Nick is not a super soldier, just an ordinary man."

"A sniper bullet pierced his chest, shattered his heart. I saw the gaping hole in his chest and the fragments of his heart," Steve's sadness in his tone left Peter with no choice but to believe him.

He knew Captain wouldn't lie, nor deceive him intentionally. Besides, his Spider-Sense had confirmed that the person in front of him posed no threat during his previous interactions with Nick Fury.

This meant that Nick Fury, while perhaps the king of agents, didn't possess significantly better physical capabilities than an ordinary person. A single sniper bullet was enough to kill him.

Just then, Schiller's voice came through the telephone again. He said, "Peter, don't dwell on it too much. Go back to the laboratory, give it a few days, and everything will be fine. We'll inform you when it's time for the funeral."

"I told you they wouldn't let it slide! Back then, I warned Nick not to go alone, but he insisted. You were on his side back then, and look where it got us!" Stark's voice came through the background, equally angry and sad. He continued, "Steve Rogers, you've lost another comrade. Who are you going to blame this time? The world itself?"

"I've been saying it all along; things were never as optimistic as you thought. You all just kept living in your little bubble, while those people... those conspirators, they're always ready to take us down," Stark continued, his tone filled with frustration.

"Enough, Tony, this isn't Steve's fault," Schiller's voice intervened, now close to the microphone, making Peter hear it clearly. "We underestimated the fact that they would dare to go after Nick."

"And the fact that they could assassinate him in Congress and get away smoothly, it means they're professionals. Probably a seasoned hitman, and the people who hired him..." Schiller sighed softly. "With the sharp tensions between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the military before, no one would believe it wasn't the military's doing."

"I'll go talk to them," Steve's voice sounded determined. "I have to talk to them!"

"Is that your reaction to all of this?" Stark's mocking tone returned. "Your old comrade dies right in front of you, and your response is to go talk to them? Negotiate with those human traitors? Is that what you want?"

"Alright, let's not argue. We need to discuss how to deal with this situation," Schiller intervened.

Peter's grip on the mobile phone tightened as he hadn't yet heard the rest of the conversation. With a click, the phone crumbled into pieces.

As the fragments fell to the ground, a mechanical arm dropped beside Peter, picking up the pieces and disposing of them in the trash bin. Peter turned around, and JARVIS placed a hand on his shoulder.

The eyes on the mechanical mask lit up briefly as Peter's voice trembled, "JARVIS, why would they do this?"

JARVIS gently shook his head, the sound of mechanical parts rubbing together, somewhat grating. Peter closed his eyes, clenching his fists in helplessness, and said, "Every time I think everything is moving in the right direction, something like this happens. I thought humanity had united, that we could work together. Was I just being naïve?"

The towering robot crouched down, its eyes blinking with a luminous glow as it looked at Peter. Through that glow, Peter began to recall something Nick had told him during a conversation at S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Peter, you have to understand, we must seize this opportunity, make the most of this golden era. This might be humanity's only chance to step into space," Nick had said, gazing into Peter's eyes. "We need more talent, and it's not something to be ashamed of. It's the dream of all humans, no matter which part of space they come from."

Nick's eyes had a different kind of radiance, and from his tone, Peter could sense a sincere hope he rarely displayed. Nick continued, "Our time is limited, so we need more people to work towards this goal, don't we?"

"Director Fury, every research follows a set process. Even if we sent ten thousand people to Mercury Base right now and prepared all the foundations, we still need time for the research on building components," Peter explained, adjusting his glasses. "Scientific research can't be rushed; hasty results could lead to misunderstandings, and the consequences would be even worse."

Nick took a deep breath. "Peter, I understand you. You're a researcher, and you strive for precision. But maybe you need to try and understand the current situation."

"What's wrong with the current situation? Isn't everything going smoothly?" Peter shrugged. "Everything is progressing in an orderly manner, from the development of space technology in various countries to the research at Mercury Base. Just a few days ago, Dr. Dora told me that another project had yielded quite impressive results."

Peter looked at Nick and said, "Director, perhaps you're a bit impatient. In reality, with the current smooth progress, sooner or later, humanity will step into space and traverse the cosmic seas."

However, Nick walked back to his desk and sat down. He said, "Peter, as children of a new era, you might not be aware that this isn't the first time humanity has come close to this great goal."

"In the era you may not understand, we did even more. In that age of rapid advancements in basic science, all of humanity held dreams of breaking free from the shackles of Earth's gravity and soaring freely through space."

"Perhaps you've seen rusty rockets and space model toys in museums from that era. Those were not exceptions."

"I was born into an ordinary farming family in Alabama, and the only toy I had was a small rocket that could be launched."

"The principle was simple; it had a spring at the bottom, and a press would make it fly a little. It didn't fly very high, and it wasn't of great quality. After a few launches, the paint would peel off."

Nick Fury picked up the pen in his hand and mimicked a rocket launch, then let the pen fall onto the desk. He said, "It was something like this, quite childish, right? But in that era, it was an incredibly amazing toy, and it was my favorite."

"Later, I joined the military and lost an eye during World War II due to shrapnel. I was also injected with Medicine, gaining a long lifespan."

"During the Cold War, I entered the Central Intelligence Agency, and at that time, our main adversary was the Soviet Union."

Nick leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling with his remaining eye. He said, "Perhaps you might find it hard to imagine, but despite them being our adversaries, my colleagues and I believed that the future of humanity relied half on them. The KGB agents thought the same about us."

"We all had to prove that we were better than the other side, but at the same time, we acknowledged their strength. You might not believe it, but much of the intelligence we collected was used to praise the Soviet Union. It's incredible, isn't it? What you see today is all about vilification, but it wasn't like that back then."

"When their rockets successfully launched, we expressed admiration and acknowledged their advancements. Afterward, we'd find our space department, and they'd solemnly assure us that we were just as capable."

"Like this, today you launch rockets, and tomorrow I test equipment. During that peak of technological development, we used methods that modern people can hardly imagine to send devices that now seem incredibly rudimentary into space, and we celebrated and were proud of it."

"That was the time when humanity came closest to the stars in tens of thousands of years."

Peter looked at Nick with astonishment. He had never thought that the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., who always persuaded him to go to different spaces for labor, would have such a side.

He felt that at this moment, Nick and Steve were alike. People from their era seemed to possess an astonishing vitality that was different from the despondency and punk influence of the current times. In that era, they always had an inexplicable faith.

But Peter actually understood that the technology of that time couldn't compare to the current Solar System development plan. Now, they could easily send devices to Mercury and assemble them. Regardless of the era, humanity had never achieved such remarkable feats.

Standing in the corridor, Peter acknowledged that back then, he had somewhat looked down upon Nick's thoughts. He thought that the times would only get better, not regress. In fact, technology had indeed progressed, and humanity was steadily moving forward. Why dwell on nostalgia for the past?

However, now Peter understood what Nick was really reminiscing about. The essence of his words wasn't about how much scrap metal they had launched into the sky during that era.

It was about Nick Fury, a born and raised American, a U.S. soldier educated from childhood, an outstanding agent of the Central Intelligence Agency, still yearning for the era when the Soviet Union existed after all these years.

It was almost unbelievable. It wasn't about a big nation's control and brainwashing of a smaller one, but a collision between two major powers. Yet what he had experienced wasn't indoctrination based on nationality or hatred, but rather the brilliance of humanity among the stars.

Peter suddenly understood what was troubling him. At this moment, he realized that he shouldn't underestimate the wisdom of an immortal. The longer one lived, the deeper their understanding of human nature.

And he, all along, had been harboring fantasies, had he not? Peter recollected that he had never truly grasped the essence of human nature. Perhaps it wasn't that he hadn't realized it; he had just been using the progress of technology to avoid certain truths.

Now, the gunshot in Congress was a reminder that avoidance was futile. There was no room for baseless fantasies. No matter how sturdy the armor or strong the chest, a bullet fired from the shadows could shatter the heart.

Putting on his combat suit, wearing the mask, Spider-Man stood by the window and then turned his head to look at JARVIS. JARVIS waved at him, almost like a farewell.

Spider-Man leaped into the air, soaring above New York in the cold wind. He stood on the rooftop of Stark Tower, emitting a silent roar.

Dark clouds veiled the sky, and the moonlight was no longer bright. At this moment, over New York, black clouds pressed down on the city.

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 871: Glittering Stars and Rotten (Part Sixteen)